


Farewell and So Long

by Sinnabon_Delights



Category: Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Gen, Minor Spoilers, Sad actually lol, Short & Sweet, Spoilers, Takes place during Ch 6, arthur needs all of the validation he can get, he deserves it ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnabon_Delights/pseuds/Sinnabon_Delights
Summary: The Van Der Linde gang is on its last legs, the only outlaws remaining either have unfinished business or are just blindly loyal. The only thing that had made you stay this long finally convinced you to go for your own good. But you couldn't just disappear without a quick goodbye, not after all the time you had together.





	Farewell and So Long

**Author's Note:**

> Arthur is a good boi and needed to know that he is indeed a good boi.

You plopped your elbows down onto the bar, shooting a convincing grin over at the bar man and waving him over. Arthur settled at your side as you withdrew a few coins and smacked them down, asking for two beers.

"Drinks are on me, alright, Arthur?" You reached up and pat his shoulder, the man deserved some time to relax. Everything was coming to an end, and fast. Most the folk you ran with had split off from the gang, leaving you and a handful of other fools trying to hang on to something you weren't sure even really existed anymore. Time was running out for the gang, but time was running out on Arthur too. You could tell by just looking at him that he was sick, that he was still holding on but only just so. 

You didn't want to leave him on bad terms, this period in your lives being chock full of badness already. Not after what he's done for you and everyone else who mattered. You might as well get the cowboy a drink before seeing him off. After being handed the beers you made your way to the back of the Van Horn saloon, sitting at an empty table. Arthur sat infront of you, his eyes full of knowing. 

You cracked open your beer, the moment feeling surreal to you. You were going to ride off into the sunset and never see you're friend again. Years of running together coming to an abrupt stop, and for good. You took a sip of your drink, not setting out to get drunk. No, you wanted sobriety today. A clear head, or at least as clear as it could be with all of the current turmoil. "I'm leaving." You sat the beer on the table, your fingers scratching at the label. There would be no waking up tomorrow with a headache, laughing at what you could remember with the soft hearted outlaw. 

"I know." Arthur's voice was low and strained, the coughing fits having torn his throat along with his health. You could still hear the sadness in that scratchy voice, your heart seizing for a moment. You never thought it'd come to this, but you were glad you could at least say goodbye. "It's about damn time," He coughed into a closed fist, pushing the unopened beer towards the middle of the table so he could lean against the edge, "I thought you'd have left sooner, though." 

"I needed to talk to you first." Arthur hadn't touched his beer, but you paused a moment to take another drink from the dark bottle in your hand. "I need you to know something, Arthur..." you looked into his eyes, seeing only a lifetime of sorrow in them. "I need you to know that you ain't bad." You ran your fingers along the neck of the bottle, keeping your eyes locked with his. "That you ain't good, none of us were, but you sure as hell ain't bad." 

"You tried. That's saying a lot more than most, Arthur... And the ones that you tried for, Arthur, well we appreciate it. So maybe that don't make you good, but I'd say it's pretty damn close." You glanced down at the table, the look of pure emotion on his usually stoic poker face was almost too much for you. You realized you'd never seen the man cry before, and it was odd seeing him on the verge of tears. He had seen you, and the others, cry before. Had helped pull you from some pretty rough patches, had been the shoulder you weeped on. But Arthur never cried, at least not to your knowledge. "I know you'll do the right thing. You always did by me." 

You stood up from your chair, Arthur looking up at you from his seat. "Thank you, Arthur," he stood as you approached, then you wrapped your arms around him and he returned the gesture. "Now go try for John, won't you?" You released him, keeping a hold of his shoulders as you leaned back to look over his face once more. You smiled widely, glad to not be the only one with tears rolling down your face. 

"I'll do my best." Arthur whispered, realeasing you as he stepped back. He followed you to the door of the saloon, holding onto the brief seconds he had left with you. 

"That's all we need." You gave him a nod as you mounted your horse, giving one last wave as you faced west and began you're journey to god knows where. 

Arthur stood still in the entryway of the saloon, watching you off. He kept replaying your words in his head, the words of the sister Calderón and Mary playing in his head along with them. He kept hearing them all jumble together, the meanings mixing and matching. All with the same intent behind them. Arthur wasn't good, but he had touched these lives in a positive way, perhaps late into life, but it was still there. He tried to help grow you into the person he didn't think he could be. He tried to rekindle the fire him and Mary Linton once had. He tried to aid the poor and orphaned with sister Calderón. The point being that even if he wasn't inherently good, and that he did not succeed every time, he tried to be. 

Arthur Morgan would never change, it was far too late for that, but he could try in his last stretch of life to be better. Perhaps it was too late for even his attempts to matter in the grand scheme of things, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least give it a go.


End file.
